Can U Do Like One With A Dorky Geek Being Forced Against His Will To Be Turned Into A Jock And Become
Can u do like one with a dorky geek being forced against his will to be turned into a jock and become like the star quarterback for the team like me
“You see, the problem with modern society is that, suddenly, all the emphasis has shifted from physicality and physical endeavours to cerebral enterprises and the furtherance of technology. Societally speaking, that can only lead to a slow downfall of everything we, the human race, have ever built. We have to get back to basics!” On each word of the last sentence, the man banged the meat of his palm on the desk in front of him, emphasizing each point. His gaze, however, never wavered from the array of students sitting in front of him. His eyes swept the room, as if daring anyone to disagree with him. He held the menace in his teeth, playing the silence out, and suddenly relaxed, shifting entirely into another mode, that of easy-going, affable Coach. “But the pendulum swings, boys, the pendulum always swings. One extreme to the other, and boy, when it comes,” he chuckled, swaying his head and clicking his tongue, “it’s gonna come hard.”
The bell sang its saw-song through the air, jarring everyone from their respective trances. Matthew snorted, turning to his friend. “Are you kidding me? One logical fallacy after another. And that pseudo-social science he was spouting? Did you even hear that? Why did we even have him in class today? What was that supposed to teach us?”
Sanjay shook his head. “Which one do you want me to answer first?”
“Any. None. It doesn’t matter. Just doesn’t make any sense. Why have the coach of the football team lecture us on how intelligence and critical thought and technological know-how is actually, you know, in disguise, the downfall of human civilization! Oh, yeah, let’s prize barbarity and tout physical achievement as opposed to …”
Honestly, Sanjay tuned him out. Sure, Matthew was his friend. Yeah, he was smart. Probably one of the smartest kids in the school, but he had a demanding, needy persona that was just sometimes hard to bear. He could be arrogant, almost preening, constantly displaying his prodigious vocabulary and scorning anyone who didn’t reach his impossible standards. Still, better to have him on your side, Sanjay reasoned, than not.
“So, yeah.” Matthew tossed his hair back from his eyes. He’d been letting it grow long, some rebellion thing. “Wanna watch foreign films tonight?”
“Uh,” God, again? He had a passion for subtitles that bordered on the pathological. Sometimes, he’d even quote the French when the appropriate time arrived. “I can’t, tonight. Family … thing.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, a toût a l’heure, mon ami!”
“Seeya,” Sanjay moved off into the hallway throng. “Weirdo.”
o
The faint, overlapping sound of calls and cries, short and shouted, that echoed from the field. Some grunting. Matthew hated that, in order to walk home, he had to follow the small sidewalk around the back side of the school and around a fairly large chunk of the football field. He usually had his earbuds in, and today was no exception, with Einstürzende Neubaten playing (and only because of the name) in his ears. He tapped his hands idly against his thighs as he walked, tapping out a badly-timed beat to the song he was listening to. His eyes he kept firmly fixed ahead. He refused to look at the game in progress, or the training, or whatever. Can’t deny that his eyes did flick to the left, but he didn’t turn his head, so that doesn’t count. Or so he reasoned.
Out of all the sports, Matthew hated football the worst. He could make concessions for “real” football, or soccer, if he was pressed, but American football, the NFL, all of it, just left a bad taste in his mouth. Stupid celebrity body-glorifying inane banal moronic and, on one occasion, mentally retarded, were all words that came out of his mouth whenever confronted with the topic. Team sports on a whole repelled him: the whole notion of conforming to a set, of being reduced to a function, caused him to shiver way down deep inside his skinny body. He was furiously proud of his body, liked that he could slip in and out of places unnoticed. He wore mostly blacks and grays for the same reason.
Of course, he was bullied. What kid isn’t? Matthew is no idiot. He’s read books, seen movies, he knows. The bully does it because the bully feels like he’s inferior in some way, is over-compensating. Yeah, he knows the “why,” but the “what” keeps happening. Physical threats. He’s been tripped, kicked, spat at. He does not let himself break to the bullies. He knows that he is superior to them, and one day, they’ll be pumping his gas. The knowledge of this certain future is enough to glaze and harden the sneer on his face whenever he runs into them.
He looked up just in time, swerving to miss the outstretched hands of one of his classmates. He didn’t even have time to notice which one it was. All he saw was a wide grin and the palms of the hands, and the world yawed above him, sky to treetops to treetrunks to dead leaves on the ground, and he was falling, poorly, ungainly and akimbo, ass over teakettle, and rolling, crashing through various underbrush, skinning his palms on ill-placed rocks, the world became a splatter of color on a palette, and then turned to gray fuzz as he came to a halt.
“Whoa, kid, kid, holy fucking …” Someone had rushed to his side, but Matthew couldn’t tell who it was. His eyes were unfocused, his ears were slamming loud carillons of hiss and bells, he throbbed, nearly all over. He thought, well, nothing’s broken, and remembered relief. He cracked his mouth and a strange noise flopped out, like a broken bassoon. “Are you OK? Did you just fall?”
“Stupid … question,” Matthew said, and passed out.
o
He woke up at home. In his own bed. His posters on the wall, his strange Russian propaganda posters, his vintage movie posters. He still throbs all over. That part wasn’t a dream. This is, however, that weird murky space between waking up and really waking up. Surfacing, sort of, through the shallows. He remembered … falling. He remembered … being pushed! His head is like an anvil factory. Jabs of clanging pain twinned to his heartbeat. He groaned, and ground his hand, hard, into his left eye. The pain did not abate. He rolled over, the sheets followed, and he untangled himself, with some amount of confusion. There was a slightly heavy … slightly wet smell in the air, almost as if someone drenched in cologne had been there recently. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, Matthew thought murkily, then shook his head violently. No! It was awful! It smelled like a locker room. How the fuck did he get home? He reached for his phone, which was where he always kept it, on the night stand next to his bed. He thumbed it open. No missed calls. No new text messages. The time was 10:30pm., on whatever day. He idly thought he might have amnesia. It was dark, and he could hear the crickets sawing feverishly away outside his window. He felt a stab of hunger, and slowly swung his legs out of bed.
The anodyne glow of the big-screen television was near-blinding as Matthew limped down the stairs. Weird, he thought. No one in this house is usually awake at this hour. He moved closer to inspect. No one on the couch. Not a sign that anyone had been there, actually. It was all very Roanoke. He half-expected to find “CROATOAN” carved into the coffee table. It gave him a little, dull chill. As he moved closer, the sound of the television grew louder, and the picture seemed to clear, resolving from white noise to figures, moving back and forth on the screen. The white noise resolved into the sound of … an audience? Matthew squinted at the screen, came even closer, outstretched a finger to prod at its surface, delicately. Then he backed up, shaking his head, chortling. “C’mon,” he said out loud, the sound of his voice flat in the living room. “Don’t be a moron.”
It was a game on the television. A football game. NFL, from the looks of it. Uniforms … orange and white and orange and black. The, uh … Broncos and the Browns. Right. That’s a lot of orange. I didn’t even know we got this channel. What channel? Oh, ESPN, right. The football’s pretty fucking elusive, doesn’t seem like anyone can get a handle on - oh, there we go. That guy’s running. He’s got the ball. Feels like something’s going to happen. Oh, hey, this guy’s coming out of the, no, no, he’s gonna make it he’s - oh. Nope. That guy jumped on top of him and he wasn’t close to the end zone.
Matthew felt a strange sense of disappointment, almost deflation. He cracked his neck to one side and frowned a little. The players were reassembling. Some of them look kinda goofy. The uniforms are kinda cool. I mean, sorta. It’s like armor, or something. Representing … uh, like, houses, or … hey, they’re playing again.
He found his muscles tightening, his hands forming into fists, as the football was snapped into play. His eyes watched it as it described its arc over the field, soaring, spiralling, toward the eager and outstretched hands of – and
“INTERCEPTION!”
Matthew snapped back to himself with all the force of a comet smashing into Siberia. He blinked, blinked again, and then shook his head. Was that something rattling around up there? Jesus, he must’ve hit hard. He should get some more sleep. Was he just watching football?
And … was there a moment there, just a moment, where he … kinda enjoyed it?
o
“Day 2,” Sanjay mimed a gun at his temple, lazing back in his chair. The windows were open, and a light breeze sashayed in. “Seriously, though? Mandated physical education in the form of indoctrination? Not sure that’s what they had in mind, but … hey, it’s gettin me out of class, right?”
“Yeah,” Matthew mumbled. He was still kind of out of it, bruised up and scraped pretty badly, but with no lasting injuries. “Sorry,” he said. “I must’ve really rattled my brains in that fall. Shit…” He dropped his pencil and fumbled around under the desk for it. “I’ve been so clumsy, today, too…”
“Maybe you got a concussion or something, man. You should check in with the nurse.”
“Naw, it’s … I slept, last night, so, I don’t think it’s a, uh, you know. That. Man, this headache. I keep taking all this aspirin.” He shook out a pill from a plain white bottle. “Don’t know if it’s actually helping, or what.”
Sanjay cocked his head at his friend and shrugged. “Suit yourself. Your funeral. And I wouldn’t take so much advil, man. Five, at the most.”
The door to the room slammed shut, and the coach walked in. He never wore street clothes, or, if he did, his street clothes were the same as his regular clothes: basketball shorts and t-shirt, sneakers and socks. He was a younger man, probably in his early 30s, with a corded, muscular body and a commanding presence lightened only by an aloof affability. “Welcome back,” he said, and the room immediately quieted. His eyes swept the room again, much in the same manner as before, as if surveying a course of meats. “I - “ he stopped as his eyes fell on Matthew. “Matt,” he said. “Hope you’re feeling better.“
“It’s Matthew,” he said clearly. “And yeah, I’m fine. No thanks to the guy who shoved me. And I will find out who that is,” he added venomously. “And when I do, you can be sure I’ll be taking it to the proper author - uh - “
The coach seemed expectant, then shook his head and continued. “Well, recent drama aside. We’re here today to talk about the benefits of fitness, and how being physically fit is important in all ways, and, in some ways, how it is the most important. Your brain won’t function if your body isn’t fed, right? And we feed our bodies by giving it nutrition and exercising it just like we would a machine. Sometimes … those machines need a tune-up. I bet most of you here need a tune-up or two.”
“Not me, Coach!’ Brody piped up. Matthew’s eyes skated over to him. He was the QB. He was just over six-foot and weighed twice what Matthew did. He sat in his desk and possessed it of a gawky adolescent superiority. His voice was deep and his face was shadowed around 5 o’clock. “I’m runnin’ on all cylinders.” He lifted his arms and flexed. Most of the class groaned, some of the girls looked sideways, and a paper ball or two was tossed.
“Yeah, well, simmer down there, Bro. It is true, Brody is at his peak physical form for his body type and his age. That’s something you can all aspire to.”
Matthew felt dizzy. The top of his scalp itched. His throat itched, felt swollen. He glanced at the back of his hand. He watched it detachedly as it rose of its own accord, sleepily at first, then erect as a flagpole, fingers straight, unmoving. “Yes, uh, Matthew?”
His words sounded, to his own ears, as if they had been dredged out of him. “How do we .. uh, do that?”
The coach stared at him for a minute, inscrutably. “Good question, Matt.” Matthew let the name go, almost like a bullet in slow motion past his ear, creating auditory ripples in through his ear and passing through his brain - “Well, we can work out, we can play a sport and join a team - shameless plug, football team still needs some good bodies, signup sheet’s outside the door - but there’s lots of different ways to achieve your physical potential.
“You really don’t look so good,” Sanjay commented. “And what was that all about?”
“Nothin,” Matthew said. He felt drunk. “I, uh, it’s fine.”
The class continued, and Matthew sat there, silently, eyes fixed ahead. The buzz and pound in his head continued. It was almost as if the dream he’d had about watching football on the television was still playing, projected on the inside wall of his skull, and he was hearing it from far away.
o
The bell announced in its shrill, strident way, the end of class. Matthew filed out with the rest, past the coach as he was erasing the whiteboard. “Matt,” he heard, and he stopped. “I just wanted to … are you OK?”
“Yeah,” he heard himself say. “I’m good.”
“Well, you had a nasty spill. You said someone pushed you. You hit your head and you scraped yourself up, but nothing was broken. We used your phone and called your roommate and they came and picked you up.”
“Oh,” Matthew said. “It’s Matthew, you know.”
“What?”
“You keep, uh, callin me Matt.”
“Well, I guess it’s just easier. Just a nickname. What’s so wrong with Matt?”
“It’s, uh. It’s not my, uh. Yeah. Whatever. Look, I - “
“Want to sign up for the football team.”
“… Huh?”
“I’m joking. What’s up?”
“I, that question I asked. Maybe I should, you know. Work out. So I don’t, you know, ‘fall,’ anymore.”
“Hey, Matt, that’s a great idea! Not to mention it’ll really help build up your confidence. Who couldn’t use some of that, huh?”
“Right,” he agreed, a little uncertain why. A weird molten surge of … something, was starting to heat up in his stomach. “Yeah.”
The coach dropped his big hand on Matthew’s shoulder and grinned. “I’m so glad you want to do this, Matt. I really think it’ll do you wonders. How about I take you down to the gym for your free period and show you the ropes?”
“My - how did you know I have a, next? I didn’t -”
“I get all your schedules. C’mon, I’ll show you and I promise, you won’t be able to stop once you start. It really is addicting.”
“Yeah, right,” Matthew mumbled, but was already being ushered to follow by the coach’s arm and hand. Before he knew it, they were walking down the hallway, out through into the dazzling sunlight, and then back inside via two metal doors with arrowslit-like windows, metal wiring. The gym. The echoes began almost immediately. Basketball sneakers against the floor with their skreek skreeking, rubber on lacquer. The clang and repeated thud of weights against racks. A pumping soundtrack, fading in and out.
“You’ll be right at home,” the coach said. “Trust me.”
I doubt it, thought Matthew, but Matt’s face was grinning, and Matt’s mouth was saying, “Awesome, Coach.”
o
“So, how’s the recruiting stage going?”
“Great. Aspirin was a great way to hide it. No one knows.”
“And after a minor, accidental, spill, pain relief … is somewhat necessary, wouldn’t you say?”
“Brody is a good QB. He’ll do whatever I tell him to, even if it does include a little … hooliganism. ”
“How about your white whale?”
“Oh, Matt’s doing amazing. You know, you wouldn’t believe it, but the kid’s twice his size. We’ll have him on the football team for this coming season, and he’s gonna make a hell of a QB after Brody graduates. Isn’t even a trace left of who he was.”
“We want to thank you for allowing us to test our new drug out on your student body, as it were, Coach.”
“Well, I understand the need for a return to the fundamentals of society. If that comes at the expense of some brain cells, well, so be it.”
“Quite right. Excellent work. I assume you’ll be having another winning season?”
“Year after year. Year after year.”
More Posts from User211201 and Others
Table of contents
Hi I'm a long time lurker on the platform and have been reading TF stories for quite a while.
Ever since Tumblr started cracking down and seeing my favorite blogs disappearing left and right I've started archiving some of my favorite posts.
I'll be reposting some stories from my archive. There's some stories that I can not find the original post nor author for so please help me with finding them!
Stories (author unknown):
A day at the beach
Aronik
Body to brag
Civilian Casualties
Taller and Stronger
Stories (author deactivated)
3TH93USA [dumb-and-jocked]
Admirable Confidence [makingrealalphas]
A Gamer's Paradise [paradisetf]
Alpha Orders [dumb-and-jocked]
Ape boy [realhankmccoy]
Aware Wolf [realhankmccoy]
Ball Practice [time-to-transform]
Be of Service [dumb-and-jocked]
Becoming Bryce [newyoutf]
Bitten by the Country Bug [makingrealalphas]
Booty Text [dumb-and-jocked]
Branded [dumb-and-jocked]
Bro-Job [dumb-and-jocked]
Bro Switch [grandwagonranchmaker]
Chronivac Coworkers [davidrodge]
Cop Out [newyoutf]
Drawn [breedertfs]
Everything has a price [makingrealalphas]
For a better life [makingrealalphas]
Gearing Up! [ZacharyEverlust@DA]
Gnarly Tides [ZacharyEverlust@DA]
Good Game [dumb-and-jocked]
Gym Goggles [ZacharyEverlust@DA]
Here's to 28! [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter One [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter Two [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter Three [dumb-and-jocked]
Hotel Korea: Chapter Four [dumb-and-jocked]
Identity Death [dumb-and-jocked]
I Was Just Being Ironic, Bro [realhankmccoy]
Josh [dumbbro]
Kenny's Uniform [makingrealalphas]
Level Up! [themuscleparadise]
Listen Up: All-American [newyoutf]
Listen Up: Swimmer [newyoutf]
Modulated [realhankmccoy]
Protocol 69 [dumb-and-jocked]
Purgatory [realhankmccoy]
Red Wave [dumb-and-jocked]
Set Free [breedertfs]
Swapsidite stone [dumb-and-jocked]
Swimming Confidence [ZacharyEverlust]
The Bald Bug [dumb-and-jocked]
The Driver: Richard [dumbmusclejockboi]
The New Frat Part 1 [newyoutf]
The New Frat Part 2 [newyoutf]
The Pence Protocol [realhankmccoy]
The Trump Trail [realhankmccoy]
The Interviews [dumb-and-jocked]
Totally Normal [dumb-and-jocked]
White Hat [grandwagonranchmaker]
Unseen Self [brounderconstruction]
Untitled 1 [realhankmccoy]
Untitled 2 [realhankmccoy]
Story index:
TheBurdenBorne
Breedertfs/Hogtfs/Shapedbydesire
If you are the writer of any of these stories and you want them deleted please let me know.
Reposted with explicit permission:
Barbarian Dungeon [cinaedefuri]
Removed on request of author:
Ancestral roots [@king-craftsman]
Briefs make a jock [@king-craftsman]
Cody Christian [@king-craftsman]
New Cologne [@king-craftsman]
Officer Davies [@king-craftsman]
Strange Oil [@king-craftsman]
Nanites [@cinaedefuri2]
Original creations:
The Rings: Jake [me]
Fighters Paradise [me]
Geared Up [me]
Do you have what it takes? [me]
Massive & Mindless [me]
One Fad Fits All: Surfer Boys
--- Originally posted by TheBurdenBorne before 2018-08-22 ---
--- Want to read more? View all stories by TheBurdenBorne ---
"Excuse me ma'am, have you seen my son in your store?"
I had searched every store in the mall and was beginning to worry. Jake usually was fine on his own, but when we met his friend Riley her at the mall and they wanted to go off shopping by themselves, I should have seen this coming.
"What does he look like?" said the young woman.
"Well, he was with a friend. They're both fourteen. Jake is skinny, has blonde hair -- sort of a skater look to him. Riley has brown hair, a little heavier. Have you seen them?"
"Hmm...was he wearing a black hoodie?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Two guys came in here that sort of sound like your son and his friend. One of them left a hoodie in the dressing room. Do you want to see?"
"I guess so," I said as I nervously followed the girl to the back of the store. When we entered the dressing room, I could hear two guys talking.
"Dude. That suit totally rocks!" "I know right! Can't wait to try it on the waves, dude."
The young man pulled open the door on his stall and checked himself out in the mirror. He looked like he was eighteen -- in the prime of his life. He had shoulder length blonde hair and was clearly a beach-bum surfer type of guy. He was shirtless and wearing only a swimming suit, which showed off his smooth tan chest and lean muscles. His friend was more built, but also shirtless. He had spiky brown hair and was wearing a bone necklace and sunglasses.
"Alright, sir. Here's the hoodie that you were looking for."
"Yeah, that belongs to Jake," I said, still worried that I wouldn't track down my son. But I overheard the two surfer guys again and something pricked up my ears.
"So, Riley. D'ya wanna hit the beach later?" "No prob, man. See ya there, Jake-o"
" Jake-O" I thought to myself. Could these guys coincidentally have the same names as my son and his friend. I had to ask.
"Um...excuse me, but are your names Jake and Riley."
"Yeah, why?" said the blonde.
"Well, I'm looking for my son and his friend. They have the same name."
I saw a look of fear in the blonde surfer's eye, as if he was trying to fight through something and tell me.
"Jake?" I said. "Is that you?"
"Dad?" I heard him whisper. "You have to help us. You have to get out of --" He struggled to say the words, but before he could finish. Riley lunged at me and knocked me into one of the dressing stalls.
"Shh...old man. You're gonna be okay." Jake ran into the stall and helped Riley restrain me. He no longer was trying to help and must have given up the old Jake completely. Riley took off his bone necklace and forced it around my neck. When he did, I felt warm and relaxed. They stood up and let me recover.
"How d'ya feel," asked Riley.
"What are you guys trying to do to me?" I asked.
"Just relax, you'll notice in a moment," said Jake.
I stood up and noticed that my aging 40-yr old body was starting to transform. My gut shrank. My muscles grew strong again. I looked in the mirror and saw my hairline return to the way it was when I was in high school. My hair grew too and looked like it was bleached blonde. As I lost weight and gained muscle, I began to feel young again. I took off my glasses because I didn't need them anymore.
"Here, try this on," said Jake as he handed me a dark red swimsuit. I stripped down naked and saw how tan my skin was. All of the old body hair seemed to fall away and I was left with a smooth tan chest, firm pecs and abs, and a lean, muscular torso. The swimsuit cupped my youthful bulge comfortably and smelled like the ocean.
"Dude, you're almost done."
I listened to Jake and Riley start to talk about surfboards, beaches, and how they were spending their summer vacation. I started to forget the years of marriage, my job at the insurance office, my college years. Everything started to become simple. I had just graduated from high school and was spending my time at the beach surfing. I lifted weights a little, partied, used a skateboard instead of taking the bus. I had no job -- just the beach and my friends.
"Alright, let's hit the beach!"
"See ya there, Riley," I said. "Jake and I will ride together." Jake was my new best friend. I never remember having a son.
As we walked out, the woman running the store turned to me and said, "Glad you found them!"
"Thanks!" I said back.
"C'mon, Nick," I heard Jake call from outside the store.
I had my whole life ahead of me!
Aronik
--- Originally posted by unknown on 2017-12-03 ---
I was a bit of nerd growing up. Actually, I was a complete nerd. Round red pimples dotted my face. Chalk white skin covered my body. Bulging stubborn fat covered my torso and thighs. Taped wireframe glasses hung on my large bird nose. I was quite the looker.
That all changed one day at the beach. I dreaded going to the beach. Where I'm from, the beach was the only place the good looking people ever went. Their tanned skin, taut muscles, sun kissed hair, glowing confidence all annoyed me. It was totally because I was envious of them. My parents urged me to come with them, and I obliged because what else would I do. I hadn't any friends and although going anywhere with parents at my age was social suicide, I was buried long ago, along with my social reputation.
Anyway, this time was different. I brought a hat and kept my shirt on to avoid the ridicule of the jocks I KNEW were going to be there, like Austin Keller, the hottest guy at school and the object of my affections since fourth grade when we shared my Crayola 64 pack. He didn't know who I was anymore but under my hat and with my book covering my face I would stare all day long at his glistening smile and big muscles bouncing in action. My parents urged me to go to the water and I finally obliged when I foot hit a hard object on my way to the waves. It hurt like a train on a track so I bent down and picked up what looked to be a small golden bee.
Suddenly a man appeared and smiled, saying "Hiya! Aw thanks man you found my statue!" I was perplexed and before handing it over asked why he had this weird idol with him. He responded "I use it for a little shoot I'm running. Thanks for returning it though. Here's a little something in return." He handed me a Speedo and continued, "If you want you can help me by modeling these. Just go into the changing room and swap out your shorts for these. I'm sure they'll look great on you!" I had a humble three inches down there, and my love handles were already spilling over my current shorts, so wearing these would be even more of a reason for the jocks to humiliate me. I gave the guy a deadpan look and he reassured me: "I swear it'll compliment your look. I'm looking for people with... unique looks... so I know you'd be the right fit."
There was nothing to lose so I waddled over to the changing rooms and swapped my shorts for the speedo. The second I put them on a wave of exhaustion came over me. I collapsed and passed out in the room. I opened my eyes and couldn't help but notice how I felt. Lighter, to say the least. I looked down and noticed my shirt was tight against my stomach anymore. In fact, I didn't even have a stomach anymore. The second I put my hand, my skinnier and tanner hand, on my stomach I felt nothing but abs and tight skin. I took off my shirt and was struck by the sight. Caramel tan skin adorned my body, covering round strong pecs and a tight six pack. I looked down at my legs and noticed their impeccable definition. The speedo fit me perfectly and showed off my butt, originally large because of my fat, but now tight and muscular. My arms were no longer chicken wings but huge with trained biceps and triceps that flexed with ease. I finally glanced at the mirror and took in my new face. My new sharp eyes pierced right into my soul. My nose looked brand new, as if I had gotten the best rhinoplasty in the world. My defined jawline was so defined. My plump lips pouted and made me look so. fucking. sexy.
I wanted to check out my new package, but there was a knock at the door. "Hey pal, enjoying the speedo?" I heard a familiar voice say.
"I've never felt better." I replied, hearing my new sultry deep voice for the first time. I opened the door and met the guy, who proceeded to take me down to the water for the photo shoot. As I posed, I noticed Austin not so subtly gawking at me. I offered him a wink and instantly saw his hard on. Let's just say the changing rooms were in need of a clean up after our little session.
The office was tense as the news of possible layoffs started circulating around. Mark sighed as he sat back down in his seat, he played around with his phone for a short time but ended up throwing it back on his desk. He sat around, switching between nervously tapping his fingers on his desk or biting his nails as he glanced back intermittently at the door of his manager. Things didn’t get any better when he saw his annoying coworker, Jason, his attire barely “formal” and heading towards him with a big grin.
“You okay Mark? What’s going on?” asked Jason, Mark rolled his eyes, he couldn’t even tell if he came back from his lunch break or if he just turned up to work and the last thing he needed was to deal with some obnoxious jock.
“I’m fine, just worried about all the layoffs going around,” answered Mark, it took everything in him not to glare as he saw Jason grin.
“Aw man that sucks, well you look like you need to relax,” suggested Jason. “I recently started this server for me and a few friends, just to talk and play stuff together. Why don’t you join?” Mark wanted to say something, but he just found himself nodding. It wasn’t like he had much to do after work anyway and he did get a new console but hardly found any excuse to use it as opposed to trying to focus on doing more work from home. “Cool! So what do you play on?”
Mark had a feeling the next hour was going to be hell to get through.
Later on after work, he found himself thankful that he still had a job, but wanting to kick himself for agreeing to play with Jason today. He didn’t even take the time to change out of his clothes, still dressed in his office shirt and suit pants as he sat down and switched on his console, toying around with his console and getting used to the controller once again. He cringed slightly as he saw Jason’s invite appear on screen and he put on the headset before joining, hearing Jason’s voice.
“Hey there bro, how are you doing?” came Jason’s voice, Mark saw that there were a couple others that joined the lobby.
“I’m doing okay Jason, thanks,” replied Mark.
“Hey Jason, who’s this?” came a voice almost as obnoxious sounding as Jason’s. Mark wondered why these people sounded the same and as he tried to introduce himself, he was interrupted.
“Oh hey Scott! This is Mark, he’s a friend from work. Yeah, I recently started going gym with him and thought he should hang out with us here,” said Jason. Mark immediately furrowed his brows. He was a pretty healthy guy but he had never gone to the gym or with Jason. “Isn’t that right Mark?
“Uhh…” Mark started, for some reason he found the right words hard to come by as he suddenly grunted at the feeling of his own shirt starting to feel too tight. His own hand began unbuttoning his office shirt, fanning himself as Mark’s torso began to grow more muscular, beginning to spill out of the shirt and causing some of the last buttons to tear themselves off. Mark blinked, unable to process what was happening and feeling like he was in some sort of dream as he looked down at his torso.
His chest pushed out, his upper chest suddenly developing pecs that bounced as they fell forward after their surge of growth, both his nipples enlarging as blonde hairs began to replace his own darker chest hair. The hairs travelled down forming a treasure trail as Mark felt his lower chest suddenly begin to house a set of picturesque six pack abs.
“You okay there Mark?” asked Scott, as a final tear came about as the last of Mark’s office shirt tore away to allow his much larger body to be free as his back started to stretch as he sat up, causing him to grow taller by every second.
“Yeah uhh I just feel-”
“Oh I’m sure he’s fine, probably just stretching. We even went to the gym today, working on biceps,” interrupted Jason. Each part of his torso seemingly bloated as Jason went on and on about their gym routine and Mark simply shrugged his shoulders as his arms were the next to expand, widening as his hands grew to get a firmer grip on the more familiar feeling controller. It felt as if coming home from work or gym to spend time playing with Jason was the norm as Mark’s growing fingers wrapped around the controller and he only just noticed he was mindlessly playing a game with Jason and his buddies. “How are you feeling Mark?”
I feel weird, Mark wanted to say.
“I’m good man,” replied Mark as he felt one hand coming to his crotch, adjusting it as his bulge began growing in his own pants, beginning to feel his calves and thighs threaten to burst his pants.
“Yeah we’ve been working on his quadriceps and stuff too,” assured Jason, Mark kicked off his shoes, almost drooling as his eyes were glazed over and playing the game with no real focus and no attention to his changing body. As his feet began to grow, Mark began to feel all his focus and passion to work and the office shrinking. He found himself still adjusting on his seat as his legs continued to grow more muscular as he scratched at his blonde facial hair that continued to grow and spread around his chiselled jaw. “Mark do you wanna meet at the gym later?”
As Mark stifled a groan from the feeling of his larger throbbing crotch, he felt his changing face. His nose shrank. his eyes blinked and became blue, no longer needing his glasses which he tossed away and his neck thickened to allow a deeper voice to sound out of his thinner and smaller lips.
“Yeah bro that’d be great,” said Mark. He almost sounded exactly like Jason and his friend Scott now as he looked down at himself. “Give me a minute.” The dedicated office worker was now a more relaxed gym bro and as he stepped away to go change into some clothes when he realised he was almost naked except from some tight fitting underwear.
Nonetheless Mark decided not to wear too much, he enjoyed feeling and being able to look down to see his muscular body, and he couldn’t believe it when he thought that he couldn’t wait to go to the gym to hang out with his bro.
TheBurdenBorne Archive
Hi all! Thanks to efforts by @masterwolftfs I have managed to recover even more of TheBurdenBorne's (DeviantArt) old stories!
Below will be a huge index compiled by @imsrtman of most of the titles of TheBurdenBorne's written works.
What I have already posted on Tumblr will clickable on the list.
Similarly, anything marked with an asterisk means that I have a copy of it and will post it soon. I also have some stories that I'm not sure what the title is of so I'll need help with that as well.
As for the remaining entries on the list:
Please send me a DM if you have any of the stories that are not marked or posted yet! I
It does not matter if you only have say part 4 or part 2. If everyone contributes parts here and there we can recover most of it!
(All the stories are sorted from A-Z ascending)
Uncategorized:
Dog Tags
Hypnotizing Young Bro
Jock boy is hypnotized
Man's Best Friend
Missing Dick
Sculpted
Tailgating
Trash
Series: Black Power
Black Power Ch. 1
Black Power Ch. 2
Series: College Camp
College Camp Part I
College Camp Part II
College Camp Part III
College Camp Part IV
Series: Dancing Bears
Dancing Bears No 1
Dancing Bears No 2
Dancing Bears No 3
Series: Daydream Age
Daydream Age 13
Daydream Age 23
Daydream Age 33
Daydream Age 43
Daydream Age 43
Series: Enrollment Week
Enrollment Week 1 (Garrett-POV)
Enrollment Week 2 (Garrett-POV
Enrollment Week 3 (Garrett-POV)
Enrollment Week 4 (Louis-POV)
Enrollment Week 5 (Carl POV)
Enrollment Week 6 (Wesley POV)
Series: Extra Curricular
Extra Curricular: Filmmaking
Extra Curricular: Metals
Extra Curricular: Woods
Series: For Him
For Him Part One
For Him Part Two
For Him Part Three
For Him Part Four
For Him Part Five
Series: Manual Labor
Manual Labor Client One
Manual Labor Client Two
Manual Labor Client Three*
Manual Labor Client Four
Series: One Fad Fits All
One Fad Fits All: Biker Chic
One Fad Fits All: Bodyguard
One Fad Fits All: Cowboy Up*
One Fad Fits All: Lumbersexual
One Fad Fits All: Surfer Boys
Series: Ostello della moda
Ostello della moda: Antonio
Ostello della moda: Bruno*
Ostello della moda: Christofano
Ostello della moda: Diego*
Ostello della moda: Eduardo*
Series: Pokémon Go Team Green
Pokémon Go Team Green: Battle
Pokémon Go Team Green: Captured
Pokémon Go Team Green: Hatched
Pokémon Go Team Green: Traded
Series: Primal Instincts
Primal Instincts: A Bit Overbearing
Primal Instincts: Men are Dogs*
Primal Instincts: Monkey Around
Series: Product Placement
Product Placement: Free Exercise Healthcare Offer*
Product Placement: Free trial Attraktion Kondom
Product Placement: Free wax and hair removal*
Product Placement: Subway sleeper*
Product Placement: Wet Dreams*
Series: Roommate Needed
Roommate Needed One*
Roommate Needed Two
Roommate Needed Three
Roommate Needed Four
Roommate Needed Five
Roommate Needed Six
Roommate Needed Seven
Series: Selfie Seduction
Selfie Seduction Interlude
Selfie Seduction Part 1
Selfie Seduction Part 2
Selfie Seduction Part 3
Selfie Seduction Finale
Series: The Collector
The Collector Part 1: Auction
The Collector Part 2: Acquisition
The Collector Part 3: Audition
The Collector Part 4: Abduction
Series: The Modern Man:
The Modern Man-Step 1
The Modern Man-Step 2
The Modern Man-Step 3
The Modern Man-Step 4
The Modern Man-Step 5
The Modern Man-Step 6
The rings: Jake
--- First time writing my own story ---
--- Please let me know what you think ---
Just before the second year of college rolled around I was met with the unfortunate news that my best bro, my roommate, would not be making it to the second year.
Turned out he'd been spending too much time partying, and too little studying. Not even the coach could save him anymore.
Sure, being on a sports scholarship meant studying isn't your main priority but you still had to maintain your grades somewhat if you want to make it to the next year.
To make things worse, my new roommate turned out be some nerd.
Jacob was your average nerd that would be holed up in his room most of the time.
He didn't really bother me. It's just... I had hoped to have a new bro to go to the gym with instead of some wimpy kid.
Color me surprised when the guy came out of his room out of nowhere to ask me to help him some project he was doing for some course.
Something about trying some "telepathy" gear he was working on he was working on for a biomed class.
To be honest it all sounded really like some science mumbo jumbo to me. I must admit I wasn't too excited so I thought I'd struck a deal instead: he'd tutor me for my calc class and I'd try his stupid gear thing.
He seemed happy with the proposal and told me it'd be ready for testing in a couple days.
--
As I stepped out of the bathroom after just taking a shower I was met by Jacob holding two comically large rings which almost looked like miniature hula hoops.
It had been a week since he'd asked me for the favor. To be honest, I'd already forgotten about our agreement.
Though I was a man of my word and did need some help with calc, not wanting to end up like my old buddy.
He signaled for me to sit on the couch as he started to explain all about his new gadget.
Supposedly, the pair of rings were some new technology he was working on. He explained that it allowed the wearers to communicate with each other as if the other person was simply a voice in their head.
I accepted one of the nearly metal rings, the only discernable difference being a smaller engraved letter T on the side indicating that I would be on the receiving end according to Jacob.
Not thinking much of it, I held it over my head as he instructed.
As I pressed the button on the side of the device it quickly shrank, tightly sealing itself on my head.
Jacob, doing the same, had grabbed a small little tablet whilst the ring sealed itself on his head.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"Yeah, let's get this over with" I replied back.
A large shit-eating grin appeared on his face as he pressed a button on the ring.
"You jocks are real dumbasses, you know. Should've been more skep--" the nerd started saying before he suddenly stopped.
The twig had frozen right in his tracks. He looked as if his soul had left his body.
Testing if he was actually there, I waved my hand in front of his face.
Nothing.
Huh? What the fuck?
Okay, this is kinda weird.
I need to get rid of this ring.
It didn't budge. Not only that, this shitty thing just zapped me as well.
Hmm, think. The nerd mentioned something about telepathy, right?
Hey nerd, you hear me?
No response. Fuck.
I'm gonna look like some freak with this stupid headband there has to be something...
Maybe I should just try the telepathy again.
Hey Jacob, say something!
In an almost comical fashion what seemed like a corpse just uttered one word.
"something"
You've gotta be kidding me.
Uh, let's try something else.
Jacob, jump!
Without skipping a beat he jumped.
This is kinda awesome...
Jacob, explain what your plans were with these rings
"My intention was to use these rings to transform you into a nerd as well as do something other things..."
Explain what you mean with transform
"These rings are a technology I devloped that allows you to transform your target however you like by giving suggestions"
Heh. So, if I told him to grow a pair that would work?
As expected the nerd briefly twitched before a visible bulge started forming.
The Jacob's bulge wasn't the only thing growning larger in the room.
I noticed that my dick started to chub up as well, fueled by this new power I had just obtained.
I realized that with these rings I could do anything.
I could still get the roommate I wanted. And I could make him however I wanted.
--
Time to get to work.
Strip
The pudgy nerd took care of undressing, now showcasing his unimpressive body.
I could not help but feel pity for the guy.
He lacked any muscle definition. The only thing he had going for him was his now bull-sized nuts that looked mismatched compared to the rest of his body.
I should at least give him an appropriate cock to match.
Jacob, add a couple more inches to your cock
His average 5 incher started growing rapidly, reaching a monsterous size of what looked to be 8 inches.
I circled around him, proud of my work while I looked for the next area of improvement.
To be honest, there was a lot of work to be done. Maybe a rough approach would be better.
Adjust your body fat percentage to 7%
His already slim frame now became quite boney.
Add 40 lbs of muscle mass
The same arms that once lacked any muscle mass now had biceps that would rival an amateur body builder.
Veins also started bulging out, running from his large mitts upto his biceps.
The changes didn't stop there, however.
A pair of meat slabs started to form on his chest as well.
Unable to resist, I snuck up behind Jacob to fondle his newly formed pecs whilst also admiring his growing traps.
My hand went slipped down further, sliding into the deep crevasse formed by his 6-pack abs.
It seemed that Jacob hadn't missed leg day either. His legs now looked more like tree trunks that would be easily able to squash a watermelon.
To make the picture complete Jacob's feet had to match as well.
You've always worn a size 13
His feet grew large and veins appeared, much like what had happened to his previously tiny hands.
You've always prefered to keep your hair in a quiff
Jacob's unruly mop had started to style itself in a trendy quiff.
Now, flex for me
Jacob now struck a double bicep pose, his already large biceps forming sizeable peaks.
----
"You mentioned something about jocks and being a real dumbasses didn't you, Jacob?"
Ah, wait.
You will wake up
"Huh, what... Why do I feel heavy..." Jacob murmured before realizing it was caused by his new physique.
"Wait! No. You were supposed to get the receiver not the transmitter! How did I- argh" Jacob said fully grasping the situation now.
"I don't want to be some dumb brute!" Jacob told me, now reaching for the ring.
Don't move
Without missing a beat Jacob froze right in his tracks.
"What are you planning to do to me, you stupid jock?" he asked.
"Stupid jock, huh" I mocked.
"It's funny you say that because right now you look more like a jock than me." I told him.
"Perhaps you just don't think like one... yet" I snarked.
"I remember you said something before. Something about jocks being real dumbasses?"
"Wait no! Please-"
You've always been a dumb
"I- uh.. Hng.. What did I say again...?"
"A real jock wouldn't go by a nerdy name like Jacob, now would he?"
You have always been called Jake
"Bro, I don't know who the fuck you're talking about."
"Ah, nothing to worry about bro" I reassured him.
You only care about is lifting weights and partying. You never bothered with studying.
Oh, and you may move again
"So bro, what's up what are we doing here? We should go to the gym." He asked me, completely oblivious as what happened not even minutes earlier.
"You dumbass, we just got back from the gym." I told him.
"Oh, huhuh, sorry bro, I guess I forgot haha" he replied.
When I call you by the nickname brute, you will obey my instructions, no matter what I tell you
"Hey Brute, won't you help me with getting these rings off?" I ask.
"Of course, anything for you bro" he replied.
A bro is never afraid of a little bromance
A little fire in his eyes lit up.
"So bro, what do I need to do?" he asked.
"On the count on three, we both press the button on the side of the ring. I think that's the only way to get them off" I explained.
"Ready?" I asked.
3.. 2... 1..
I immediately felt relief as the tight ring was now removed from my head.
"Brute, give that ring to me. You never want to touch that ring again. You know big bro will handle it for you" I instruct Jake.
"Here you go, bro" he said handing the ring.
I put the rings on the nearby coffee table.
I was happy. I now got myself the perfect roommate. And, if I needed it I could give additional to my brute.
"Hey Jake, there's a party tonight. You wanna go?" I asked him.
"Of course bro, always down"
"Before that, I've got to ask something" I said, sitting back down on the couch.
"I need a little help with something" I smirked, turned on by all the effort put in transforming my roommate
My dick had become rock hard and was begging for attention.
"You think you can help a bro out?"
Gnarly Tides
--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust before 2018-08-22 ---
--- Note: Pokémon Gym Leader TF ---
We are back at the same location! Same place, same time, same method! Well slightly different one, a tweaked version of what will happen to the fellow victim from the previous story. Only this time, its from the OTHER soon to be-surfer's perspective. As such, the story starts off with his perspective. Seran, being called here by his friend, Baikoha, via text.
Dude you've gotta check this out!
I'm having a blast with Swimming! Coach wants you to tag along!
Bring your goggles along too man!
Obviously, knowing his friend, its totally odd that he would post a message like that. Baikoha didn't want to attend Sports Week much less enjoy those "swimming lessons". Not to mention he actually complained about it yesterday at his dorm...
Seran walked towards the open pool, letting his really long brown hair down as he gazed over the line of participants for this year's "Jockification Week", or so what people described. 'They turned guys and girls into jocks, full of school spirit and cocky bravado!' was apparently what some people described what happened to their friends...how farfetched, well, aside the fact that even his own friend posted that weird message back to him.
The invited-teen peered over for his friend for a few moments, unable to find him. Probably already in the pool by then, Seran assumed, scratching his growing beard down below his lip. The thin-lanky man has to be at the beach in about an hour from now, skipping out an hour's worth of sleep to originally bail with him so they could dodge sports week together, though his friend's apparent change of heart as shown in his message...it was weird, really weird.
Probably at this moment, Seran's mind wondered even more about those Jockification rumors he'd heard from the other newbies. "What if they were true?" Was the first stereotypical soon-to-be-victim thought anyone would have. He recalled the goggles he and his friend discussed yesterday, him being the lucky person that received a limited edition "Marlon & Brawly branded goggles." To his surprise, the other pair was inside the gift box that was laid in his doorstep this very morning!
To be honest, it looks awfully strange, with shiny plastic lenses and their sides being being labelled with the numbers 1-2-3-4-5. Coloured completely black with shiny orange lenses. He wanted to go and tell his friend about this too, though it'd be better just to surprise him. Right?- SPLASH!-Wow some douchebag splashed water on him---SHONE!--"WHA--?"
He sensed the sides of the goggles glowing, sending pulsating charges to the lenses as they glowed a bright orange, shining brightly as though its a conjoined process. Glowing and overwhelmings strongly on the inside of the lens, past the helpless victim's past through the corners of his brain, touching the commands and subjects that make a person-them.
"ARGH! My eyes--huh?" Like an enormous tidal wave that's about to wash over a helpless surfer, he felt like his body became paralyzed in a millisecond, as though he was no more in control. HANG TEN! Was the signal the flashed in his brain, the only thing he could focus on the inside whilst observing the pool's water dripping down from his skin--?
Brawler's Stance!
His thought shifted momentarily, the number 5 engraved on the side of the goggles faded away as this happened. His fists clenched, as his body brought itself to an iconic fighting position, one that's familiar in a game remake. With feet firmly rooted to the ground, squats strongly standing apart and fists brought close to his chest.
SOMEBODY HELP ME! He thought loudly to himself, unable to open his mouth aside forming a huge cocky-like smile that was unlike him, eye brows furrowed oddly , if anyone took notice of him, he would look like a mix of an odd statue and a young man looking for a fight. Although...he didn't fit the part of a fighter just yet, needing an appropriate body to support the current position he is in--
SPLASH!
"NOT AGAIN!" He shouted. The Second tide came in, as a swimming gave a powerful dive from the diving board. Drowning Seran's clothes and his chest from the inside even further. A Drenched white T-shirt and brown khaki shorts, with plain looking sandals. This certainly did not match the goggles he is current matching, and that is about to change as the number 4 faded away next.
PUMP IT UP!
WHOA! He watched his body rise up even higher with a dose of electrolytes, goggles converting pool water to salt water as it gave a dose full of a lifetime's worth of minerals to the body. Aging several years as his height went up with it, with even longer legs and arms, a body that's as tall as any other typical sportsman that can be seen in sight.
Bathed in an appropriate amount of UV rays from the sun, his body crusted into a perfect moderate-brownish Hawaiian tan, like its a result of time and dedication. With his body being at a prime at his early twenties, yet feeling really uncomfortable underneath the clothes he's currently wearing, like it wasn't his style, like he deserved something better--
WOW! The next thought came up, as he watched as his clothes physically re-materialize by themselves right before the goggles covering his very eyes-- RUBBER! Starting with the feet, as the base of the sandals dyed themselves a strong orange, and black rubber soaked itself over the top.
Escalating hugely, they grew larger than the size of his foot as they reached a decent L-size. Bottom becoming rubber like the top, with the strap too becoming part of the design and turning orange as well. Five circles appeared where the toes should be and two black rolled loops appeared at his ankles, though the whole new wet-shoes get-up barely fit him.
The same treatment can be said about the rest of the attire as it went up, clothes now barely fitting and staying on him due to the L-size of the clothes, only thanks to the tight-fitting quality of wet-attire were why they were able to still stick onto his thin bod.
With Khaki shorts morphing themselves blue with waterproof threads as they wrap loosely around his waist, sky blue boarder shorts only on due to the current "stance" he's made into. A plain generic T-shirt gaining originality as they rediscovered cool typical sports patterns sufficing from his chest and trailing from on shoulder to another.
Those patterns turned a familiar pure orange as the rest of the shirt turned into a sporty black. Bringing out a cool and manly side out of the wearer. The sportier shirt hugged tightly to his skin as they turned into a waterproof-skin tight fabric, seemingly rubberized. A loop suffices around the top of his shirt, below his neck and similar to the ones of his wet-shoes.
With that being said, the last changes formed at his fists as the surfer influence touched his hands. Black covering his fists as they turned into orange at the top, with the same loop down at his wrists. Forming Brawler-like slash Surfer wet gloves for those who enjoy diving into the ocean from time to time, and with the current status of his body, it seemed as they just enjoyed anything water sports related, especially surfing--
SPLASH!!!!
"DUDE! THIS IS NOT COOL BRAH---?!" The man complained, vocabulary "Oh man! I haven't even bulked up yet---!" He realized that, with it being the next stage as the number 3 faded too.
IT'S WORKOUT TIME!
His brain thought, feeling his fists clenching even harder as veins bulge toughly from his arms. Watching them firm up as they do their years of training hard, growing to a sizable size as those knuckles nicely fit the gloves like a proud brawler.
The power and energy moved up to his shoulders, expanding them wide and steady as a result of surfing for over a decade, body posture and balance maintaining his strong figure. With a hefty lean-muscular chest supporting his front with tanned pecs and chiseled abs showing his status as a gym instructor, and a gym leader.
Legs tanking out, with calves steadying and fitting the boarder shorts like he liked it. Butt rounding and firming up, jutting out simultaneously with his feet as they filled in their entire wet-shoes. His attire completely suiting his powerful physique, like he deserved it.
"Man! This is great and all!" The soon to be hundred percent Surfer man spoke. "This like totally caused a storm of astonishment to my system! Oh man! But like..."
SPLASHHHH!
"HAHA! Wow! Again with the waves dude!" With water entering his system, cleansing his throat and tonsils, refilling the surfer lingo that he ever most desires with an attractive, chill and a totally radical voice that didn't cared much about intelligence." Gnarly Voice man...AWESOME!"
HANG TEN DUDE!
"Wicked!" An overwhelming surge of confidence and resolve shone in his face. Teeth as white and strong as a Sharpedo's, a smile evolved to a fearless confident grin. Angular Jaw being a sticker to the personality that crashes tides and oceans with his surfboard.
"I LOVE this dude! Can't get enough of it!" Hair spiking at the back, maintaining themselves like an in-bred style that suits him. Blasted away with Sky Blue like his boarder shorts, totally radical as they held spiked in place, bangs free. Facial features chilling with the breeze blowing against his forehead, ears wide open, nostrils filled with the scent of the sea, black sharp eyebrows boldly representing his self-assurance, his power, and his passion for what he does.
"And it just gets better and BETTER!"
"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"
"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Fully lost in the Ocean, the new man awoke. With the number 5 completely fading away, he understood the hang ten quality within him and embraced the tide. With outstretched arms voluntarily breaking past any gnarly paralysis, and a body standing tall and firm as water poured down on him.
His goggles glowed and allowing the sun rays reflecting of the pool's surface to bask him with all the thoughts that he needed. Goggles taking on their true form as they tinted themselves as pure orange shades, with black sides supporting his coolness.
"Yo! Brawly! Sup!" Marlon raised his hand. HI-FIVE "Hey Man! Totally drenched me over here! Haha!" He laughed.
Lifting up the shades, revealing two piercing light blue eyes that shredded killer waves. He understood who he is, and how couldn't he? Being the Former Gym Leader of Dewford City's Gym, churned in the rough waves while pumping in the gym and toughening up in a pitch-black cave.
Now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group, and yet another carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water, Brawly takes his stance.
With his buddy Marlon by his side, being the fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Rooming up like the bros they are, and having being given their own special goggles together by the higher-ups as a reward for being one of the best pairs in their category. The Ocean. Though his was definitely cooler since it could transform back and forth between his trusty shades and goggles with a button at the back. How awesome is that?
With their knowledge of the ocean, surfing as well as a healthy match of Pokemon battles and tons of working out. With Marlon and Brawly taking the lead in The school's Swimming/Water Polo and Dynamic Surfers Teams respectively, The Captains of the University's Water Sports Group were unstoppable together.
"Dude! Race you to the top of the diving board." Marlon swam. "Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna wipe you down man!" Brawly jumped in and swam right after him.
The two of them made their way to the diving board.
"Hey Man! Watch this--I'm gonna make--!"
"A Bigger Splash Than The Sea!"
SPLASH!
"Dude, that's nothing. Don't forget, I'm--!"
"A Big Wave In Fighting!"
SPLASH!
Originally posted on 2019-09-12 by dumb-and-jocked.
Comradirization
Jacob woke up with a start. His eyes were groggy, adjusting to what he assumed was the morning light. He shifted his arm, trying to scratch his head, but found he couldn’t move it. He flopped over, a little annoyed, and was surprised to find his arm handcuffed to one post of the bed. He tried to swing his other arm over, but found that it too was cuffed. He raised his head to look at his legs to discover that they were also chained to the beds. His whole body was locked to the four corners. Before he could panic anymore, Jacob realized he wasn’t alone in the room.
“Chacoob Kooglerr?”
In a chair next to the bed sat a young, rather handsome man. His defined body and proud beard made him look to be approaching his 30’s. He sat there confidently, his large thighs spread out as he sat there in just a small pair of white briefs. A small tattoo adorned his right arm, while the rest of his body looked as pure as an angel. Although he looked stunning, he didn’t smell it; Jacob noticed the lack of hygiene rather quickly. The man was trying to smile, but it looked more like an awkward smirk. What Jacob didn’t see coming was his thick Russian accent ruining his name. Jacob hadn’t done anything illegal or wrong, at least nothing that he thought would attract a Russian man to kidnap him.
“Vow do yoo zay eet?” the man asked, scaring Jacob. Jacob slowly pushed himself up to a comfortable sitting position, not knowing how to respond. He was too frightened to think of anything else. He had heard of people getting kidnapped before, but usually not by men who wore just their briefs.
“Ya get vaht I mean, yeh?” the Russian added. Jacob slowly shook his head, not knowing what else to do. The Russian grunted angrily, obviously irritated, before speaking again.
“Yoorrr name?” He tried to say it as clear as he could, but the exaggerated “oo” and rolling r’s brought him right back to square one.
“Oh,” Jacob replied, “Jacob Kugler.”
“Chacoob Kooglerr.” The Russian brought a hand to his face, smiling almost proudly, not realizing he had butchered the name the same as before.
“You Amereeican zand zyoorr dumb names.”
The Russian got up and walked throughout the apartment, grabbing items along the way. As he searched, Jacob took his time to figure out where he was. The room was fairly small, housing everything from a kitchen to a bedroom in it. It looked to be some sort of hotel suite, but Jacob couldn’t find any windows to tell. Jacob also realized that as he looked around the room, he found he probably wouldn’t be staying here long. The room looked clean and devoid of any decorations, in fact it barely seemed like a home at all. No photos, no scattered laundry, and Jacob quickly realized that his bed looked to be right after the staff maid had stepped in. He also discovered that he too was in a pair of small white briefs, not at all like the boxers he had last remembered wearing. He was embarrassed that he hadn’t recognized his barren body had been exposed to the world.
Speaking of memories, he couldn’t remember what he had been doing before waking up. He remembered walking out of his office early that morning to catch a meeting on the other side of town. That lead him to a train station, where he bought his tickets and went to the bathroom. Once he was in the room, the memory went black. Jacob was rather ordinary; he worked as an accountant, lived alone at 24, had a moderate build. His blond hair and blue eyes weren’t as appealing as they could have been. He wasn’t fat or skinny, tall or short, but he didn’t have enough muscularity to attract anyone of the opposite gender. In fact, the last time he had a girlfriend was in highschool. Jacob hadn’t really done much with his life yet, so he couldn’t figure out why he - out of anybody - would be kidnapped.
“I am Pasha Vajda,” he said, bringing over everything he had gathered, “Eet ees time to zbegin procezz.”
“What process?” Jacob said, shivering out of fear and being cold from his lack of clothes. Pasha slowly gathered his things and dumped it on a table behind the chair he originally sat in. First, Pasha brought over what looked to be a virtual reality headset, but it looked different than what Jacob was used to. First off, it was a dark red color, with yellow stripes across the back side. The straps that were meant to go around the head also looked different, being shaped more to look like a helmet. Jacob tried to fight back, but Pasha easily placed the device over his head. As soon as the goggles went over his eyes, Jacob felt the harness tightening, so hard it felt as if it was digging into his skull.
As Jacob sat there in quiet fear, Pasha placed the other items in their proper places. He brought over a small tube and linked one end over Jacob’s nose and mouth before hooking the other to a small tank with multiple compartments. He quickly placed two earbuds in Jacob’s ears while connecting the cord to an old iPhone, one that still even had the headphone jack. The last thing Pasha did was jump on the bed between Jacob’s legs, switching on the phone before opening a Russian music app.
“Zee,” Pasha began, “Eez my chob to zhelp creehte new comrrades.”
“New what?” Jacob said, still confused and struggling to escape.
“Eez zimple,” Pasha said, “ve need morre comrrades, yoo’ll be ze comrrades.”
Before Jacob could ask any more questions, Pasha tapped the first playlist that had appeared on his phone, titled “товарищество.” The playlist’s title was rather obvious, for Pasha knew the two would be sharing comradery very soon. Once it began to play the first track, Pasha tapped a button and switched on the VR headset. He leaned back and sat there with the phone in hand, his cocky smirk returning as the process began.
Jacob tried to protest again, but before he could his eyes were blasted with a bright light. As soon as they refocused, all he could see was a red and yellow spiral. Jacob tried to look away, but he was sucked in mere seconds. He didn’t even hear the playlist beginning, starting with the National Anthem of the USSR playing quietly. He also didn’t register when words slowly began flashing on the screen, flying in and out before his conscious mind could register anything, or when he had started to breathe the air being fed to him. A deep melodic voice also entered, saying the words that were disappearing fast, but only in Russian. Jacob tried to ignore everything that was happening, but it was all too easy for him to succumb. The process began smoothly, easing Jacob’s mind open for comradirization. The first set of messages flashed quickly on the screen.
“Real Men have facial hair.”
“Real Men do not clean themselves.”
“Real Men put brothers before others.”
“Real Men listen to other men.”
“Real Men only trust Russian Men.”
The messages were repeated for almost an hour before the first track ended. As soon as it was finished, Pasha pushed the headset up on top of Jacob's head and removed the tube from his face, allowing him to see and breathe fresh air again. Pasha pulled up a different app on his phone, showing the procedures of what to do after each segment of the playlist.
Jacob sat there dazed. He knew his mind had been flooded with certain commands, but he had no idea of what. He was still in the weird apartment, still kidnapped and in white briefs. He was still tied up, both of his hands still cuffed to the bed; the only difference from before was that Pasha now sat right in front of his crotch. Strangely, he was fairly comfortable with the situation. It must have been the essence of the Russian Man sitting in front of him, Jacob could only trust Russian Men after all.
“So,” Pasha began, “khow long ya khad ze faczial khairr?”
His accent was still as thick as ever, but Jacob understood what Pasha was asking fairly well. Jacob brought a hand to his face and itched his subtle beard. It wasn’t large, but definitely worthy of praise.
“Ever since I could grow it.”
Pasha smirked and looked at his notes before continuing, “Ven Vas ze last zime ya zhowyerred?”
Jacob thought back to the last time he’d been in a bathroom, or water for that matter. The rising stench around him suggested it had been a while, but Pasha had a noticeable funk too. Jacob didn’t care that he smelled however - real men were supposed to reek.
“I don’t remember.”
Pasha smirked again before he leaned over and placed the equipment back on Jacob. The Russian Man told him to stay still, and Jacob, knowing to listen and only trust Russian Men, did just that. Everything was loaded back on and set to its proper settings before the second track begun. New words flashed along the screen with a new scent. The last one was plain, filtered air, but the one being fed to Jacob was now raunchy, sweaty, and extremely pungent. Jacob would have vomited at how odorous the new scent was, but he was too busy absorbing the new Russian commands to care.
“Real Men work out every day.”
“Real Men are proud of their bodies.”
“Real Men only respect Russian Men.”
“Real Men are only comrades with Russian Men.”
“Real Men wish to be Russian Men.”
The second track played for a little longer than the first, causing Pasha to get a little impatient, so he began to pleasure himself. Once it had ended, Pasha awkwardly found himself halfway through trying to bust a load. Not having time to finish, he quickly removed Jacob’s gear and began the next set of questions. As he asked away, he non-subtly stroked his massive steel rod, knowing Jacob was far enough along that he wouldn’t mind.
“Ya verrk out?” Pasha asked. Jacob looked down proudly at his built body. Of course he had worked out, you couldn’t be born with a body like this. He had large pecs, beautiful abs, strong biceps, and don’t even start him on his sculpted legs. Jacob made sure to always get every part of his body, ranging from the sculpted shoulders to sculpted buttocks.
“Of course I work out, bro! I always know when to get in a sesh,” Jacob replied, not noticing the jockish gym lingo influencing his deeper voice.
“Goud,” Pasha replied, “Vat do ya zink of Ruzjians?”
“I think they’re incredible. In fact, I’d say there the best!” Jacob had greatly adored the Russian race as long as he could remember. It was a deep passion of his.
“I’d be a Russian and only be friends with them if I could!” Jacob exclaimed excitedly, allowing Pasha move onto the next part of the process.
Pasha swiftly tilted himself up and once more placed the gear upon Jacob’s head. As he did, his exposed, leaking cock rubbed up against Jacob’s torso. Jacob shivered, the touch of a real, Russian man thrilling him. Once Pasha was finished, he leaned back and activated the next stage. Russian commands were fired through the earbuds again, but this time the words in front of Jacob’s eyes were now in Russian too. The gas from the tube was also replaced, now filled with a dark, yellowly liquid that flowed down Jacob’s gullet. The burning pain of the constant piss wasn’t even enough to take him out if his comradirization.
“Real Men have Russian as their first language.”
“Real Men do anything for Russian Men.”
“Real Men only love Russian Men.”
“Real Men are gay for Russian Men.”
“Real Men are Russian Men.”
After another hour of pounding commands into Jacob’s skull, Pasha removed the gear. This time, Jacob’s head really hurt, like he had just studied hours for a hard test. He brought up his hands to rub his temples, also itching at the short, brown-colored sports cut. When he opened his eyes again, Pasha sniggered as he noticed their new, dullish brown tone. Once the headache had passed, Jacob made eye contact with Pasha, feeling flushed as he observed the beautiful man in front of him. His cock began to inflate in his tight briefs, a full three inches longer due to his improved, Russian heredity. He was so infatuated with the male in front of him that he didn’t even realize he was no longer imprisoned, or the lukewarm cum drying on his pecs.
“Who do you love most in your life?” Pasha asked, speaking in full Russian.
“Um…” Jacob answered back in Russian, his thought process noticeably slower, “I dunno…”
Pasha wasn’t satisfied with his answer. As if a lightbulb flashed in his head, Pasha popped up with an idea. He leaned over to Jacob, giving his cock a quick tug. Jacob moaned in response, before muttering out, “I love other Russian Men.”
“Good,” Pasha said before continuing, “Where are you originally from?”
“Russia,” Jacob announced proudly, and as soon as the words were said, the equipment was replaced for the final part.
Pasha clicked a few apps on his phone before sinking up the last section of the playlist. The end of the comradirization was always the most difficult, as so many important parts were involved. First off, two new machines were added: a milking mechanism and an infusion pump. Pasha carefully placed each of the objects in their respective locations; one would inject the Russian sperm and the other would make room for it. The other component that made the ending the hardest was that if it didn’t go absolutely perfect, the whole process could fall apart. Pasha had to make sure everything was ready as he began the final section of the process. The final words flashed on the screen and paired track began to play. This time, lots of messages flooded the screen, while the rest of the equipment pumped Jacob’s body into the prime, Russian Man he was soon to become.
“Russian Men obey the stereotype.”
“Russian Men love football.”
“Russian Men drink vodka.”
“Russian Men love to smoke.”
“Russian Men have deep voices and are dumb jocks.”
As the new reality set in, Jacob’s mind became flooded with new memories. Memories of growing up in Russia, going to school with Pasha, learning how to be an incredible forward in soccer football, and making out with other hot, Russian Men in the locker room. The smell of vodka and nicotine always on their breaths as they passionately kissed.
“Russian Men never smile.”
“Russian Men reminisce the USSR.”
“Russian Men are Orthodox Christian.”
“Russian Men are abrasive, arrogant, and rude.”
“Russian Men are alphas.”
The milking machine chugged away, pulling out every bit of Jacob’s cum as the better, more powerful Russian semun was pumped into his veins. Pasha loved seeing the man become a comrade right in front of him. Jacob’s growing body pulsated out towards Pasha. Jacob’s once-scrawny legs not stretched over the edge of the bed, his feet bloating to a massive Size 16 - just like Pasha’s.
“Russian Men are superior above all other men.”
“Russian Men want all men to be Russian Men”
“Russian Men want to comradirize all other men.”
“Russian Men want to make all other men their Russian brothers.”
“Russian Men are Vadja Men.”
Once the final track had ended, Pasha removed all of the gear and towed it away. He placed the white briefs back over the now goliath dick and tucked the large, Russian Man into the bed. The new comrade had passed out, the final part overloading his smaller brain. Pasha cleaned up before leaving, his job done. He was ready to find the next person to comradiraze.
— —
Yakov woke up in his small apartment, the smell of a smoky, alcoholic locker room pleasantly filling his nose. He flipped over and slapped his large feet on the floor, the meaty sound echoing throughout the small room. He walked over to the dirty kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka off the counter, and turned on the small television to reveal a Russian football game.
As he took a swig, he picked up his old phone and looked through his notifications. He had forgotten to close out of the comradirization tracks; he could be such a dumb jock sometimes. As he scrolled through a Russian, gay dating app, a text popped up at the top of the screen. He clicked it, seeing that it was his brother: Pasha Vadja. He clicked the tab as the first set of Russian letters filled his screen.
Pasha: hey brother
Yakov: hey comrade
Pasha: how’s my little Vajda doing
Yakov: its Yakov Vadja, not little, I’m as big as you
Pasha: yeah whatever. hope you’re ready to go make some comrades
Yakov: yeah, I’ll get to it real quick
Pasha: send me a pic of you first, for fun
Yakov: alright, just a sec
Yakov heaved off the couch, mad that he had to tear himself away from the intense football game. He crouched down in front of the mirror by the bed and posed, making sure to get the best angle. Yakov knew that his brother would nut over this, and he knew he probably would too later. First things first, he had to go make some more comrades first. He was excited just thinking about it. He looked in the mirror and then at his phone before taking the pic. He was so glad that he couldn’t smile, it made him look much sexier. He quickly sent the pic to his brother, ready to go comradirize.
Making Some Changes
By: the-craftsman
The cafe had seen a lot of better days, times when, the boss admitted, that it was a great place for college jocks to hang out and chill, but throughout the years it became “sophisticated”, a place where boring people came, ordered their drinks and left, leaving the cafe a place for dwelling hipsters, like Andrew and Rob here. The two of them sat down, Andrew barefoot not minding as he was complaining to Rob about the useless “jocks” on campus, needless to say things needed to change. Rob and Andrew were once again sat on a casual day, most of the people by now were leaving which was odd for the afternoon, and they swore they saw the appearance of more jocks in the cafe then they were on campus, which of course made it all the better when they complained.
“God what are with the meatheads today,” chuckled Andrew, beginning to sip into his chai tea (because of course he would be the type of person to order chai tea at a cafe), his feet still barefoot as he began scratching at his beard, feeling like it was slightly rougher against the skin, even skinnier he supposed.
“Yeah, I don’t know, maybe they put steroids in the coffee here,” smirked Rob as he drank his own chai tea, feeling a bit of a tangy taste causing him to smack his lips, his eyes narrowing as he shifted in his seat. “From the taste of it, sounds like some of it slipped into our tea.” Rob joked, both him and Andrew laughing, neither noticing that their laughs had become deeper, almost more full as they were the only ones in the cafe by this point, that was, beside their new manager who was watching them earnestly as he wiped the tables.
“God yeah, man this tastes awful,” grimaced Andrew, noticing his grip on the cup had become weaker, like his hands were feeling numb and he swore the cup was smaller than before. “I’ll go see if we can get a replacement or something.” Rob nodded, shifting in his seat as a sweat was breaking out on his brow, hoping Andrew didn’t notice. Andrew had walked up to the manager, still barefoot, not minding showing off his body now especially when there was nobody left in the cafe besides him and Rob, “Excuse me, sir, is it okay if we can get a replacement please, these just taste a bit…” The manager ignored him, though Andrew swore he could see a smirk. He was horrified as he dropped both the cups, glancing at his hands as he saw tanned skin began to appear, the tone travelling down his fingers which elongated.
“Andrew!” Rob was behind him, his own hands doing the same. Before the two could even begin to run away, they both looked down, watching their feet expand, growing to be similar footsize as Rob’s own pair of feet broke through his shoes, the toes popping out of the seams as the leather all but buckled upon his feet, the musky odour that began to emanate from them causing him to stifle a deep moan, as his feet all seemed to move on their own, instead of running away like he wanted them to, they were getting closer to Andrew. Andrew witnessed the change, unable to stop smelling his own musk that even began to make his cock erect.
“R-Rob, we need to, to get out of here…” Andrew groaned, feeling his now larger and toned hands began to caress Rob’s body, slowly tearing off his clothes as Rob’s hands did the same to him. Both their hands exploring one another’s bodies, exploring each other as they began groaning and moaning together. Andrew felt Rob’s torso begin to creak, his own fingers seemed to almost create the crevices that defined themselves in Rob’s belly as his body became thinner, his shirt falling away as pectorals began to jut out, and Andrew felt Rob doing the same to his own, Rob’s fingers coming down to create the perfect navel and defined abs for himself. “R-Rob…” Andrew moaned before he felt Rob’s lips on his own, the two of them unable to stop themselves as their cocks pressed up against one another. Andrew’s fingers traced on Rob’s shoulder blades watching as a tattoo began to form.
It was then when they felt their bulges expand, their cock elongating and lengthening against one another as their pants seemed to fall apart, Rob’s hands came to grasp Andrew’s ass and he suddenly felt his own inflate, his ass thickening and becoming somewhat wider as if the fingertips and hands that brushed it were crafting it, shaping it into the perfect bubble butt as Andrew did the same to Rob. They both glanced down as new underwear appeared, tightly fitting around their cock and ass, outlining themselves. Andrew even teased Rob, his fingers diving into the crevice of his new large ass, slapping it slightly and smiling as he did so, Rob yelped and groaned at the spanking and the fingers that continually teased diving into his ass to rub against his prostate, almost arching his back as he wanted more. Yet instead both their hands continued to explore each other’s cocks, fingers caressing the very head and the tip, rubbing against them to hear the other groan just that much more louder.
“You like that bro?” smirked Andrew as his finger came and playfully caressed the throbbing underside of Rob’s cock, his fingers making Rob tingle as he pre-cum was beginning to jut out, staining their tattered pants as Rob began to hump and thrust into Andrew’s hand.
“Andrew b-bro…I need…need more…” Rob continued to hump at Andrew faster, wanting more, hoping his collea- his bro could shove his cock down his ass, but with a seductive wink from Andrew, Rob knew that was later.
They moved even closer, feeling both their legs almost tangle as they brushed against one another, becoming thinner, much more muscular as their calves defined themselves, their bulges still rubbing against each other as they were leaking. Andrew kissed Rob once again, unable to stop as his mind was altering, his groaning and moaning becoming much more apparent as the tatters of their old ‘nerdy’ clothing disappeared, their rough beards were gone as their jaws became chiselled, as their hands ran through each other’s hairs, their locks were gone, instead their hair was straightened, each other’s fingers almost combing through and styling it on their own.
The musk was far too much, their feet both being confined to sandals as the two sniffed deeply, their fingers were clutching and grasping at each other’s cocks through their new underwear, rubbing the very head with their palm as Rob looked up at Andrew, biting his lip at the man’s blonde hair as he stared at them with brown eyes.
“B-Bro…I’m gonna…”
“Gonna cum for me bro? Do it.” And with that, Rob couldn’t stop himself as he felt Andrew’s fingertips pull at his cock one last time before he stained his underwear with heaps of cum, upon seeing this Rob quickly did the same to Andrew, only giving him barely two strokes before Andrew did the same, the two of them cumming and leaning into each other’s touch, reality bending around them as their old lives were forgotten, lost upon them, no longer the hipsters that they were but the dumb bro jocks they once resented, once were jealous of, and that they now once were.
By the time Andrew and Rob came back to be, they were both standing up, the manager facing them as he gave them their new drinks.
“Yeah bro, don’t give us any of that chai tea shit again, I’m telling you we don’t drink that,” Rob noted as the manager smiled, giving his most sincere apology as he waved goodbye to the two new jocks, the both of them laughing and flexing in their new bodies as they left the cafe. Needless to say they weren’t going to be lingering around any longer, they had frat parties and other “cool shit” to be doing.
--- Originally posted on 2020-05-23 by shapedbydesire ---
--- Want to read more? View all stories by breedertfs ---
A nerd couldn’t stand his dumb jock roommate anymore. He learned a spell to change his roommate to be alike him but before he finished his spell the jock was aware of what the nerd would do to him. The jock grins and threw his dirty socks into the nerd’s mouth and began his own ritual to make him a perfect bro.
John Andrew was, to say the very least, a bit uptight. It was the first thing anyone could tell about the young collegiate scholar. But when you insisted on going by both your first and your middle name, it became pretty obvious that there was a stick lodged up your ass.
But he was rich, and brilliant, so he saw those things as a free pass to being an unpleasant person. He had every right to hold himself above everyone he met, because to John Andrew, that was exactly the truth. He was superior. Top of his class, always wearing designer clothes, a great family name at his disposal.
If not every single student in his university, there was at least one particular individual that he knew he was several heads and shoulders above. Travis James, or as he insisted to be called, “TJ” was a waste of an already worthless athletic scholarship. John Andrew wasn’t positive the guy had even passed elementary school, let alone qualifying for the same prestigious college as he did. At least the meathead could throw a ball around, right?
John Andrew could forgive the fact that TJ was dumber than a bag of bricks if not for two reasons. One being, there were too many other flaws to give just one of them a free pass, and two, John Andrew was trapped in a shared dorm with the disgusting idiot. The star athlete and the star academic, in one space, even his parents couldn’t argue the reason behind it.
But they weren’t the ones forced to swim through TJ’s sweaty gym clothes abandoned on the floor, they didn’t have to listen to him moan out some bimbo’s name as his bed frame knocked against the wall, they didn’t have to cover their noses and wretch whenever he let out a booming fart. The guy didn’t even realize how repulsive he was. He’d just smile, and burp, stretching out his arms and letting his pit stench waft into the air. “Dude, I need to take a shit.”
John Andrew could care less if TJ tried to be friendly, if he tried to invite the outcast nerd to all the coolest parties in an attempt to bring him out of his shell. One of them actually had a future to seek out, the other could afford to throw all of his ambitions away. So John Andrew kept telling himself to wait it out, that sooner than later he’d be free. He’d be on the top, where he belonged, and TJ would end up working construction on one of his many buildings later in life.
Then the prank happened. Or, at least, the prank that broke the straw on the camel’s back. John Andrew was trying to sleep before his big exam that next morning, already tucked away long before midnight. When TJ stumbled back into their dorm, drunk and gassy, he walked into John Andrew’s room while looking for the restroom. “Fuck,” was all he could say as he rubbed at his bloated stomach, looking down at his roommate’s exposed face sleeping soundly. He couldn’t resist it. It was a classic prank, he and his best bros had gotten lots of great laughs out of it over the years.
TJ stomped over and swung his big meaty body in position, almost graceful in his movements. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. And when he let a squelching fart rip right in John Andrew’s face, it was the scream heard all around the campus. The nerd was frantic, and furious, and gagging, and all TJ could do was let out another one. “Bro, I need to take the biggest dump. You want me to take a pic so you can see?”
No, he didn’t. He didn’t want to see TJ ever again. When he stormed out of their dorm that night, it was nearly a week later before he returned. He had aced his exam, but the memory of the rotten egg-like stench and the humiliation still wore on him, and it took him time to gather his thoughts. Now he had a plan, tucked away in the bags under his arms and the incantation scrawled across the piece of paper in his back pocket. If TJ wouldn’t fix himself, then John Andrew would.
It had taken many online searches and a few calls to close family friends, but he had learned an occult ritual to bend a person into the image of another. His traits and goals could be imprinted on TJ’s caveman brain. He didn’t think the jock was quite worthy of being his second coming, but people always said that two was better than one. What was the harm in two self-obsessed nerds with superiority complexes? Maybe then John Andrew would finally have someone he could hold a conversation with.
Setting up the ritual was easier than he expected, just a few chalk lines and one of TJ’s many abandoned gym socks at the center of the circle, candles burning all around the room. All he had left to do was add his essence to the air, transferring his energy into the thing that represented his roommate. Just a simple exhale, and he would have someone worthy of calling a companion. He was excited, voice rising higher as he went ahead with the incantation.
And then the door swung open, and TJ stumbled in drunk. “Bro! You’re finally home, fuck.” He was clutching his beer gut again, like he always was, smiling like an idiot. “I missed my best dude!” Then he noticed the candles, scrunching his face together and chuckling. “Bro, I missed Halloween? Fuck, we should get wasted.” He stomped forward, chuckling as his big feet tore through the chalk lines. John Andrew was sputtering, trying to stand up before tripping over himself and landing in the center of the circle. The slip of paper slid over to where TJ was standing.
All at once, everything went wrong, and so suddenly. His nose was hovering right over TJ’s sweaty sock, and the jock himself was looming over John Andrew in the circle. The big oaf bent down to pick up the paper, making his trademark “I don’t get it” face once again. He tried to repeat the words on the paper, getting eerily close to how they were meant to be pronounced. John Andrew couldn’t move, at first because he was stunned, but then because an electric charge was moving through him.
When TJ was finished, nothing changed, and John Andrew let out a breath of relief. He looked down at the sock, exhaling a bigger breath. Wasn’t that what the spell asked for? Wasn’t he still in control? Then TJ’s massive legs were on either side of his head, and he was in a headlock, the sock being crammed into his mouth. He gagged on the salty, sour flavor. TJ just kept laughing, letting a fart slip out. And then another one, because why not.
“My prank is better than your witch shit, bro!” But this wasn’t meant to be a prank, and now it was ruined, and... Was John Andrew higher off the ground? He found it more difficult to turn himself over than it should have been, spitting the sock out of his mouth and rotating his body to look at a developing shelf of pecs. The stench of TJ’s fart was still heavy in the air, thick with his essence, and John Andrew was still lying in the center of the circle. Covered in the stench, sweat dripping from his lips.
He tried to get up quickly, but tripped over his stretching feet. “Fuck. No.” He never swore, but this situation called for it. His hips flared out, thighs straining against his pant legs. It was like the air from the fart was inflating him, like he kept getting taller and thicker with every inhale. “Help,” was all he could whine, but the only person to hear him was TJ. The big jock strolled over with a light chuckle, throwing his sweaty bicep around his roommate’s widening neck.
“Man, you been working out? Sick gains.” John glanced down, and he couldn’t help but agree with TJ. He tried to tell himself it was more the fact that what was happening to him was sick, and twisted, but then he flexed a bicep without meaning to. It swelled in front of him, and he was smiling, for just a moment. Then he pulled away from his roommate, trying to run away, but all of the bulk and girth made his legs like jello. It didn’t matter that they were shredded, or that he was an absolute unit of a man.
When his cock started to swell in his gym shorts, which he didn’t remember ever putting on, he fell to one knee. He couldn’t stop himself from shoving a big meaty hand into his jockstrap pouch, fishing out the python now growing in his hands. “Oh, fuck. I’m so fucking horny, bro.” His eyes were so full of fear, he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his lips, but TJ was thrilled. It was nice having someone who understood him. The jock was starting to forget that this was a nerd who always tried to avoid him, that he enjoyed pissing off because he was such a prissy little fucker, and was remembering that they really were best bros. And now his best bro was jacking off right in front of him.
“Ha, dude. You should have went to the party. This one chick had the biggest rack of tits.” John, or Andrew, or whatever the fuck his name was could only grunt, laughing for no reason because that was what TJ did. And TJ fucking loved girls with huge racks, so JA - AJ? - did, too. Yeah, TJ and AJ, best bros since the first time they met and had a farting contest in front of the college scouts. It was kind of hard to tell them apart. They played the same position in football, on opposite sides of the field. They went to the same parties, wore the same clothes, lived in the same filth and flunked all the same classes. They even banged the same chick, once or twice. At the same time.
John Andrew and all of his superiority welled up like cum in AJ’s nut sack, every trace of him had disappeared from the room. All of his clothes, all of his books, even the signs that the ritual had even occurred in the first place. The stench grew heavier as if two jocks had been living here all along. All AJ could do was laugh, busting his nut in his shorts and wiping off the globs of cum on the outside of his shorts. There was hair all over him now, tattoos on his chest, a cap on his head. He was so fucking hot. All it took was a selfie to make the girls cream themselves.
“Dude, I’m an absolute tank. You wish you had guns like these.” TJ just chuckled, punching his best bro in the arm and walking into the kitchen to fix a late night meal. White chicken and rice, pure protein, now AJ’s favorite snack, too. He kept scratching his balls as he followed his bud, licking his lips as the food was being prepared. It wasn’t until TJ set his plate aside that AJ leaned over, trying not to chuckle and ruin the joke. “Dude, do you want some special sauce for that?”
TJ just blinked, like an idiot, because they were both idiots. “What special sauce, dude?” Then AJ turned on his heels, bending over and pressing his big ass right over his roommate’s plate on the table. He let a protein fart rip right into the air, right over the food, and TJ couldn’t even be mad about it. He plugged his nose and guffawed. “Dude, you are fucking rank!” And he was. AJ was a pig, and a stud, and he loved it. He was so lucky to have TJ as his friend and roommate.
He was lucky to be just like someone who was so fucking awesome. Thick, dumb, and gross as fuck. Because he had a right to be. Maybe he still had a superiority complex, huh?
“Finish your food, bro. This pussy hound wants to go huntin’ tonight.”
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